


blossom in ribcage

by liesmith



Category: Cow Chop
Genre: M/M, Multi, Trans Characters, ignoring during heavy pettin, two of them! two of them!, very light domming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 11:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14544222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: he picks all the locations, so as desperate as he is, brett offers their homes for cctvorbrett misses them both so, so much





	blossom in ribcage

Brett wasn’t shy to relationships with coworkers, but somehow, Aleks and James were the worst of all of them. Besides Cow Chop itself being time consuming, Aleks was always off doing Aleks things and James just would not get his dick out of Twitch. As much as he tried to coordinate them both, one always ended up being unavailable, and not that Brett didn’t enjoy one on one time, but it wasn’t quite the same.

So casually bringing up filming CCTV at their respective homes and having it well-received made Brett optimistic. All they would have to do is kick everyone else out at the end, and he could trap both of them. Perfect in theory.

Aleks immediately kicked everyone out, bitching about how they were so mean to Mishka, making her be locked up and all that, even though it was his decision to.

James was way done with all of them, but especially with Brett for bringing up the whole house tour de force, before filming had even started. Brett didn’t even bother trying to stay. He just hung his head and went home and spent yet another night by himself, going to bed at like, ten pm, like an old person.

His final chance at an actual, honest-to-God, evening with both of them was the orphanage, which in hindsight, was not sexy, and Brett would _kill_ for his succulents, but that wasn’t the point. It was a nice day. He had wine. Aleks and James looked good.

And, without even prompting, they both offered to lag behind to clean up.

Maybe the orphanage _was_ sexy.

Brett’s a little too eager and wonder if it shows, discarding swans and babies by the back door as he closes it behind him. Aleks is in the kitchen, maybe trying to close the leftover wine, but probably trying to find the harder liquor. Jokes on him; Brett already drank what he had during a sad old man evening. James has found his way to the couch and claimed it as his own, stretched out on his belly as he runs through Amazon, trying to find something entertaining.

Somehow, they both seem incredibly uninterested in Brett.

Shit.

Did they know?

Brett is careful, as if he’s a wolf hunting two incredibly bitchy bunnies who fight back. He goes for Aleks first, sliding into the kitchen and laying a hand on the small of the blond’s back, who, surprisingly, is trying to find the cork for the bottle left.

“Where’d you put the stupid, uh… rubber thing?”

“The cork?”

“Sure,” Aleks offers, pushing around a couple of small pots of succulents in his search. Brett tries very, very hard not to smack his hand away, “did you throw it out?” 

Huh. Did he? “Don’t think so,” Brett murmurs, taking the wine from Aleks’ hand and trying to guide him from the kitchen, his other hand still there at the small of his back, “look, ignore that. There’s more important things.”

Like getting laid, because it had been a couple of months.

Aleks doesn’t fight the grip, lets Brett navigate him into an armchair, sinking into the cushions, flicking his gaze towards the television.

James next, the bitchiest of the bunnies.

Brett does manage to claim some of his couch back, though James just rolls onto his back and throws his legs over Brett’s lap. He can deal with that. A hand settles at his knee, and then, from 0 to 60, he has it on James’ thigh, hand cupping along the denim, thumb rubbing at the seam.

“Jesus,” James mumbles, though he’s focused on the television, “you okay there, Brett?”

No, Brett wants to say, I need some sort of human contact, preferably with something sexual.

“Yeah,” He says instead, and drops his hand back to James’ knee. Maybe acting like a horny twenty-something was a turn off. Silence settles and so does some sort of… energy. Vibe? Aura? Brett can tell something’s off, but not in a bad way. It just irks him that he can’t quite put his finger on it.

Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to think long. James sits up and Aleks slots himself between the arm of the couch and Brett, squishing the older man in. Ok. Brett can do this. Something tells him if he moves or makes noise, he’s probably dead, so he just sits there through a mind-numbing episode of whatever the fuck James has put on, and when he thinks this night’s a dud, a hand is rucking up his shirt. Brett shies away from the cold fingers and next to him, Aleks makes an annoyed noise. Shit. Ok. First warning, he guesses.

Brett tries to keep from moving as the fingers just dance across his stomach, intentionally making his skin goosebump and stomach do somersaults from the tickling. Asshole. The fingers finally dip lower, trace along the top of his jeans, then put just slight pressure against his belt. Then, in typical Aleks’ fashion, has no fucking idea how to undo the belt with one hand. Brett wants to offer help, but right now, he’s harboring a chub, and is incredibly afraid of what the repercussions would be if he was to move.

As Aleks works on his belt, James has started to move. A hand sits at the back of Brett’s neck, just idly touching the soft hair. Brett already regrets cutting the curls; it felt good when they’d grab it. He doesn’t have long to reminisce about it because dumbass Aleks has learned to open his belt and his hand is now just toying with the zipper to his jeans, just enough pressure that has Brett wanting to grind up into it. Besides him, James as trailed his hand downwards over his chest, and with some sort of weird fucked up preciseness, finds one of Brett’s nipples. Shit.

The fact that both of them are barely paying him any attention makes Brett hate them so, so much.

Aleks’ hand flicks open the button, undoes his fly, and gets his hand against fabric. He laughs, though Brett’s not sure if it was at him or at something on the television. Probably him. The pressure’s better now, but the small wet spot he’s made against his briefs catches against his tip, and Brett can’t help the small gasp that comes. James tsk’s besides him and Brett wants to whine, but he just suffers instead. Warning two.

James’ hand, warm against his chest, just plays with his nipple. Rubs, pinches, twists it just slight. He tries so hard not to arch up into it, but fails completely. Aleks’ hand stops immediately and so does James’, and Brett, he’s _fucked_.

“Really, dude? A little nipple play and you’re just done?” It’s super vulgar hearing that kind of talk from James and it just makes Brett whine, throwing his shame to the wind and grinding his hips up into Aleks’ hand, palm still over him.

“Shit,” Aleks laughs, thumbing over the bit of Brett’s length he can reach in his briefs, “I feel kind of bad now, you know? Holding out on you.”

“Holding… out?” Brett repeats, voice cracking at the end. Fuck, he was something.

“Yeah, we wanted to see how long you’d go,” James shrugs, already getting up from the couch. He turns the television off, turning to face Brett and give a small grin, “two months is impressive.”

Brett’s quiet as Aleks pulls away from him too and as they both leave to his bedroom, it dawns on Brett.

They were cockblocking him on fucking purpose.

He wants to bitch and moan and leave, but he’s also _really_ fucking hard, and the fact that Aleks and James have been holding out just as long makes him dizzy. Just because they’re acting kind of calm and collected doesn’t mean at all that they both aren’t dying on the inside, just like him.

So, Brett plays a sort of long con. He goes to the kitchen. Deals with the wine. Makes sure the back door is locked and swans are safe. Tosses his hat onto the couch, and then lets his shirt follow after. As he walks to the bedroom, his belt is left in the hallway, and Brett stands at his door frame, hand on the wood.

On the bed, they’re both in various states of undress, Aleks more so, and they’re, Brett guesses, is making out. It’s more like a biting, drooly, wrestling mess, but it’s still hot to watch. Aleks gets pinned under James, whose straddling his chest, and takes the time to yank his shirt off, leaving them both in their underwear. Brett wants to interrupt pretty fucking badly, but there’s something feral about the two when they go at it. The way they know each other’s bodies is unlike anything Brett’s ever seen before. Still quiet, he watches James get on his knees and Aleks’ hands yank at his boxers, pull them down around his thighs and then grab his bare ass, rolling them over to Aleks can be on top next, one hand on James’ chest as the other reaches between his legs, cupping his mound. James shivers under him and his own hands go to Aleks’ ass now, then to his thighs, hips lifting just a little to get more out of the touch.

As much as Brett wants to watch, he’s so hard it hurts, and he hates himself for wasting time earlier.

“Any room for me?” He asks, voice soft, and it takes a moment for both James and Aleks to process that he’s there. Aleks rolls off of James, easy, and just gesture Brett over, who doesn’t waste any time to crawl onto his bed, sinking down besides James. He looks… so pretty, hair messy and face flushed, and Brett can’t help himself, a hand sliding into the loose curls and kissing him. Fuck them if they still wanted to play that weird ignore game. He _needs_ them right now.

James kisses back, all soft and sweet, as if he wasn’t an asshole ten minutes ago. Brett doesn’t at all mind the change in tune, though. Above them, Aleks is shuffling, and hands settle at Brett’s hips, and then his jeans are gone. The blond straddles him and Brett whimpers into the kiss, the pressure and wet of Aleks enough to make him break the kiss, head ducking down as Aleks moves, just slow rolls of his hips.

“Asshole, we were kissing,” James complains softly, but there’s really no malice in his voice. He takes the time to push Brett down onto his back, and push Aleks, just to be an asshole, “don’t get him off before I do.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Aleks rolls his eyes and shoves James back, who just takes the time to straddle Brett’s face, hovering above Brett’s face, soft thighs bracketing him. Brett too happily realizes his job right now, hands cupping the squish, and gently guide James downwards, eyes closing as he nuzzles into a thigh, spreading soft kisses across it. He doesn’t even register Aleks’ getting rid of the rest of his clothes until he hits cold air, hissing soft into James’ skin. Brett would bitch, but he’s got a mouthful of James, so he decides to focus on that instead.

Thumbs spread James and Brett licks with soft, quick touches along his folds. He almost forgot how _divine_ James tastes. His tongue sweeps along his clit, making James jump, just slightly, before settling back in, a hand curling in Brett’s hair. Aleks has taken matters into his own hand, prepping Brett, fingers curling around his base after he slides the condom on, and before Brett can even think, the wet, warm heat of Aleks is all he can focus on as the blond rocks his hips, sinking down to Brett’s base.

Ok. Ok. Brett can try to do this, focus on both of these fucking assholes.

He fails immediately, brain short circuiting as Aleks takes zero time to start riding him, almost pulling all the way off to sink back down in a slow rhythm. Above him, James growls, and Brett tries to get back to work, running his tongue from James’ clit to his opening, pressing just so before sliding it inside. He works his jaw, tongue rolling as his hands grip James’ thighs tighter.

Being at their mercy isn’t the worst, but Brett’s finding it more and more infuriating that he can’t just do all of it. He missed them both so badly and being able to do just little more then roll his hips, try to thrust his tongue… it’s just not _enough_. He pulls back from James, mouth wet and panting as he looks up at him.

“J-James, hunny, I-” A hand cuts him off, pressing Brett back against James. Fuck. Okay, lesson learned. He goes back to working his jaw, thumb pressing against James’ clit and moving it in tight, slow circles. James shakes above him and has to catch himself against the wall and Brett, at least, feels satisfied with that. Even if he was still sort of being cockblocked.

On the plus side, they’re both as desperate as him. Aleks’ steady rhythm has become a bit erratic and James is a shaking mess, nearly doubled over as Brett doesn’t let up on his clit at all. He just replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking at the nub as two fingers replace where his tongue was, thrusting further into James then his mouth could have ever reached.

There is something satisfying about both of them reaching their orgasms at almost the same time. James is first, shouting as he comes, and Brett too happily licks at his sensitive folds, unable to get enough of how he tastes. Aleks follows a beat later, making a whining sound, and Brett gasps at the tight heat. With Aleks at his base, trembling on top of him, Brett grinds his hips up to get just some extra friction and whimpers into James’ thigh, filling the blond.

Aleks, being the compassionate, non-selfish lover he is, leans back against James, who then just puts more weight on Brett, who grunts. Afterglow completely ruined. He manages to shove James off first, feeling only slightly bad for it, and then Aleks next, who is just all thrown limbs as he stretches out, eyes sleepy. Brett, like usual, is left with the clean up; he could almost do the routine by muscle memory alone. Condom in the trash. Washes his face. Warm face cloth, which if it was any other time, he’d be nicer and clean them up, but he throws it at Aleks’ face instead.

“Was it worth it?”

James makes a noise from where he’s curled up on his side, clearly uncaring at his state of mess. “Was what worth it?”

“Being absolute shitty boyfriends to boss me around in sex so we all get off in thirty seconds?”

The silence that meets him is kind of terrifying. Was that too far, joking about their vitality?

“We’re boyfriends now?” Aleks chirps up after a moment, brow raised as he throws the used face cloth back at Brett, who smacks it away and glares at where it lands, “this is new.”

“Of course we’re boyfriends, we’ve been going out for…” Brett trails off, mind catching up with the conversation, and… oh. Oh. Brett just stares at them before scrubbing his hands over his face, feeling an immediate headache.

“We’re fucking with you,” James supplies, noticing the anxiety stretching over Brett’s features, “come to bed, Brett. I think it’s kind of sexy being a widow when you’re left money, not succulents.”

He doesn’t trust either of them at all, but Brett climbs into bed, lets himself be sandwiched between the two of them, effectively the big and little spoon at once. His face buries into James’ curls and one of Aleks’ arms tuck up under his, hand splaying across his chest, idly touching the necklace sat against his skin. Brett’s chest feels tight, like when he wants to cry, and he just swallows around a small lump in his throat.

They were… such assholes, but they were his, and Brett loved them both so much.

**Author's Note:**

> does anyone ever read these


End file.
